Lockdown stories

[Daisy]

Gem, I’ve just noticed this. I’ll read it later when I can sit down with a coffee and enjoy it.

[Gemini]

Thank you Plant and WG!
I wrote it in one go and I think the ending is a bit weak, that last sentence. If I had spent more time on it I may have rewritten it slightly , maybe!

No rush Daisy

Although I wrote it this week it is set in the first lockdown phase, when we were all at home apart for essential shopping and a daily local walk!

[Daisy]

Gem, you’ve captured a pre-lockdown day and a lockdown day exactly how it has been for many of us. I think it’s a story that we’ll read and reread as time passes, either to recall what it was like before lockdown, or to remember that first phase when the country fell silent. Well done.

BTW, I don’t think the last sentence is weak at all, but it would be interesting to see what you might write as an alternative. Xx

[Daisy]

Well, I've been struggling to come up with a Christmas story for this strange 2020. Then I had an idea, woven round the 'Christmas Bubble of 3 households', but that bubble has now popped for almost most of us, and I can't get my head round finishing the story off! Back to the drawing (or thinking) board.

[Gemini]

I have started a story!
I have the characters, setting and storyline. I have written quite a lot of it this afternoon.
I need something else to happen however, and I don't know what yet!
I have saved it now and finished for today. Hoping for more inspiration!

[Daisy]

Gem - how exciting. Inspiration will probably be sitting there in your mind when you wake up in the morning.

I'm still waiting for that first spark!

Has anyone else got a budding storyline just waiting for the final spark to bring it to life?

[Gemini]

That story Breakfast Club, is still in production! I got demoralised by losing an afternoons work on it recently, but I must get back to it!
I have written a short story for now, which I will post.

[Daisy]

Gem - I'm sure you will get back to The Breakfast Club, and I look forward to reading it.

I thought I had an idea for a story yesterday, but I couldn't come up with a way of progressing it!

[Plantaholic]

You two are clever, they say there is a book in everyone but I don't think that includes me.

[Daisy]

Plant - I think you're not giving yourself sufficient credit. I bet you could write some lovely stories based on your Guiding experiences, for example.

[Sum1Ls]

I wrote this in the late summer and forgot about it! It’s actually based on a real story - expanded and embroidered a bit.

Two Cans and Saint Thomas’

‘Well’ thought Elsie, ‘that’s the first time I’ve ever ate an omelette; mind you, the cost with three eggs in it, that’s not surprising’.

She let her eyes rest on the three boxes of eggs, fifteen in all with one empty dozen box in the bin, and the four loaves of bread on the kitchen table. And where had all that money next to them come from? A ten pound note, two fivers and a pile of coins.

Elsie sat at the kitchen table and looked puzzled. She remembered popping into the Turkish shop to buy her dinner and then when she got back home, two of her neighbours were there with more eggs and a couple of loaves. And they’d said that with so many eggs they might as well cook some and they could each have an omelette and a slice of crusty bread. It had been a real treat to have a little party like that, sitting round the table together, just like it was in the old days when all the family were still at home, even though she wasn’t quite sure why the pair of them were here or why they’d had a little party.

June had found where the plates and knives and forks were and got her old frying pan down from the top cupboard. She usually only bothered with boiling an egg, it was so much easier. Sheila had made a big pot of tea in the old Brown Betty - that hadn’t been used either in a very long time and it brought back old times when she used to squeeze the pot with her friend Iris for another cup of tea after they’d dropped the children off at school.

She’d loved hearing all the stories about the street as they ate their omelettes, how Jim had scared away the thieves who were after the lead on the roof at Saint Thomas’ and how the people at number 46 were having fancy building work done. And how Mrs Buckingham had had words with Mrs Wells about the cat doing its business in her garden.
‘She always was a miserable old madam’ Elsie had said, remembering some words she’d had in the past, ‘I once asked her to give eye to our cat when we all went away to see my old Nan, but she was such a sour old thing and said it could look after itself and to make sure it didn’t go pestering her. Typical’.

‘Tell you what, how about a drink? she’d suggested ‘I’ve got my lager in the fridge’.

She’d watched her two neighbours shake their heads. Good neighbours, they were, hadn’t they proved that today? Both widows like herself, but a bit miserable not sharing her cans of lager. Still they’d been very good and the omelettes were lovely, and so was that thick slice of crusty bread with best butter. It had been a long time since she’d had company like that and they’d cooked it too and found the Brown Betty that she hadn’t clapped eyes on since when.

She pondered for a bit, it was funny how she remembered all those things from years ago, but she was still puzzled about the party.

Now, she really must set her mind to remembering where all that stuff had come from - and the money? And then the picture popped into her mind, she’d misplaced her purse again, and she’d seen Bernard and then Amin on the way up to the shop. So kind, both of them helping her out. Notes too, as well as all those pounds and then Karim at the shop hadn’t wanted any money he’d just given her the eggs and a loaf and told her to enjoy. And of course she’d met the neighbours on her way up the street and explained about her purse. They must have come in when she was at the shop and brought some bread and eggs with them. What a muddle it all was. They’d washed up too and tidied the kitchen. It was all a bit much these days although she managed pretty well. Most of the time.

She thought she might settle down and watch the TV early. It was still quite chilly in the evenings and she could switch the fire on and watch Corry. She loved her soaps they took her mind off things and she felt she knew all the characters. Like real life it was. But then instead of Corry that messy blond bloke came on. And what a carry on there was, everybody shut in, even the kiddies. Still, so long as she could get to the Turkish shop and get her bits she’d be OK. She’d get that sorted out. She didn’t go out so much these days. She’d manage.

But how the days dragged. Lovely neighbours she had. They’d told her she was too old to go out at the moment but not to worry. They’d sort her out and see her right. They left dinners and bags of groceries so she had no worries about her meals, and they phoned up too, but her hearing wasn’t all that and sometimes she’d no idea who it was on the other end. And how she missed her little trips out to the shop with that nice Mr Karim and the park where she’d watch the kiddies play with their mums and the dog walkers who always passed the time of day and asked her how she was. And as for the tele, there was no escape from all that virus. She couldn’t make out what the fat blond chap was saying with his posh voice. It didn’t seem to make much sense, but then, nothing did any more.

And then they’d said she could go out again. She’d go up to the Turkish shop and get her usual. On went the slippers and with two shiny pound coins stowed safely in her purse, she set off. The street seemed longer than usual and it took a time to get there. Her feet were a bit chilly too with just the slippers on, but stopping indoors for so long had made her feet swell and she couldn’t get her shoes on no matter how hard she tried, still she made down the street and the shop front was so welcome and, yes, there were the cans of lager on the shelf at the back. She’d missed those in the lockdown. The neighbours had been good, but none had thought to bring her a couple of cans.

She stood by the checkout in the shop and fumbled with her purse, the nice middle aged chap who usually served her wasn't there and the young girl behind the counter was insisting that she didn't have enough money to buy bread and eggs as well as the two cans of lager which was her evening treat to herself.

'You've only got £2.00 lovey, and that's not enough, which will you choose?'
Elsie thought for a minute.
'I'll have the lager, it cheers me up'.

She’d stumbled out of the shop feeling even more confused. She had her little drink but for the life of her she couldn't remember where she'd put her keys and she was in need of a sit down and a bit of peace. If only her Stan was still here, he'd sort it out for her, but it was no good dwelling on what might have been. Stan had been gone these ten years and left her with naught but his ashes and a few photographs.

The photos were lovely though; Elsie thought of the ones she looked at every day. The wedding ones were the best. Her in her white dress with a waist so small Stan could put his hands round it and him so smart in his suit and his Dad's watch and fob. What a day it had been, the sun shining, St Thomas’ all polished, the bells ringing and the Reverend so kind and understanding. She wasn't really a churchgoer and her Stan didn't bother all that often what with being on the road so much, but it hadn't mattered, and the wedding had been the best day of her life.

She thought on her and Stan’s three kiddies, all scattered now, and though they were good, it was hard for them to get to Charlton what with their busy lives and being so far away. Her Maureen was teaching in Australia. She'd done well at her studying and who could blame her for wanting a new life down under. Susan, the middle one, was a nurse up in Manchester and came down when she could but she had three of her own and it wasn't easy. And Danny, her youngest, a right rolling stone he was. Elsie was never quite sure where he was or when he would suddenly turn up full of smiles and fun. But it was a fair bit since that had happened.

Elsie's feet took along the street and round the corner, she gazed at the the bright displays of vegetables and strange spices, sniffed the enticing smell that came from the takeaway kebab shop and smiled at a group of young teenagers larking about on the corner. They weren’t really supposed to be there but who could blame them. It was getting chilly, but the early summer's day had been bright and clear and the memories of that June day, over sixty years ago, came flooding back. It wasn't that far to Saint Thomas’ was it? And she would love to sit down again in that quiet space and think on that day.
She passed the Cafe and the newsagent and turned up the hill. It was a pull to get to the church but there it was, and just the same, with the little flower bed at the front and the tiny side door was was open a crack too, although the light was fading fast.

Elsie pushed the door open and walked unsteadily down the aisle towards a secluded corner behind a pillar. There was a little stone seat tucked away on to which she sank gratefully. And then she remembered her cans of lager which she had clutched all the way from the shop. She was feeling quite peckish. She wasn't sure when she had last eaten, it might have been yesterday. It was so hard to remember.

Susan had been on at her again about having someone come in every day, but she didn't want strangers in the house. Who knew what they might do, and anyway she liked to keep her business to herself. No, she could manage. It was just the money that was tricky, that, and remembering how to use that dratted microwave. And her keys that kept wandering around. She could have sworn she'd put them in her bag but they seemed to have disappeared. Never mind, she was safe in her corner and she had her little drink to warm her up.

She tugged at the ring pull and it came away with a satisfying pop. She took a long swig of the liquid and felt it warming her up nicely. Really, it was a lovely spot here, quiet and peaceful with a fragrant scent of incense and candle wax. Elsie sipped at her can and then, when that was finished, she opened the second one.

Jim, one of the churchwardens, arrived shortly as dusk fell to lock up. He always checked the grounds and the church and even though it was closed to worshippers at the moment, he liked to satisfy himself that all was well. He’d entered through the little side door which was only used by the church wardens and had popped out briefly to get his WD 40 to ease the lock which was stiff from lack of use. A good spray had sorted the problem and the key turned easily and silently in the lock. He stood at the door and looked around the peaceful building in the fading light and offered a short prayer of thanksgiving for its beauty and the way it had been at the heart of the community for so many years, and then he extinguished the two dim lights leaving just the sanctuary lamp burning, turned the key again and departed to his house down the hill.

Elsie felt her knees giving way, she slipped down beside the pew and the stone seat. She felt pleasantly woozy and really quite warm despite the fact that she was only wearing her carpet slippers and a thin cardie. The cushions tucked beside the pews made a lovely pillow and the little soft light above the altar was oddly comforting. She closed her eyes and felt the darkness enclose her; her last waking thoughts were of her dear Dad walking her down the aisle to meet her Stan and then she fell into her deepest sleep ever.

[Gemini]

Awwwwww.
Sum1, that is such a good story. It brought a tear to my eye. Bless dear Elsie!

[Daisy]

Sum1 - I could picture Elsie every inch of the way. You totally got inside her mind and portrayed her thoughts beautifully. I loved all the tiny details as well, from the Brown Betty and best butter to the fragrant scent of incense and candle wax. You could feel her confusion and the way she clung to her soaps where the characters seemed more real than her family or neighbours. I could picture her in her slippers struggling to walk up the hill to the church, and then sinking down, gratefully on the stone seat. Plus the tension - would Jim, the church warden see her or close the door for the night.

Thank you for sharing it, and what can I say, except "more, please".

[Sum1Ls]

Thank you Daisy x

[Gemini]

I love your writing Sum1. I too would like to read more!